everyday;

@gio-panicucci​

He looked at the door, a small frown plastered slightly on his face. His hands were grasped behind his back, the shirt clasped tightly in his grip. He didn’t think he’d ever be back here. Once it was safe for him to move back to Underland, he packed up as quickly as humanly possible and fled home. He’d been lounging around ever since, only leaving to go to work. He never thought he’d miss his shitty apartment that much, but it was his and that’s what mattered. It was his own space that was shared with nobody, and he basked in that. 

Joseph hadn’t bothered unpacking when he got home. He mainly cycled through three worn t-shirts, so he’d taken those out, but that was about it. It had been a little over a week, and it was his day off. He finally decided to unpack and get settled back in. He was putting his stuff away, AC/DC blasting over the stereo. He pulled a shirt out and stared at it. He didn’t recognize it. In fact, it looked like nothing he would ever wear. He threw it on his bed while he continued unpacking. When he was done, he turned his attention back to the shirt, trying to rack his brain as to where he got it. With a sigh, he knew exactly where it had come from. Gio. It was definitely his. 

He had considered just keeping the shirt, but after Gio’s hospitality, he knew he had to return it. Then he could consider them even. So he found himself knocking on Gio’s door, waiting on his doorstep for him to come and collect his belongings. 

***

Gio’s feelings for the other man had felt…complicated needless to say. He had hated the way Joseph so obviously sought to get under his skin and even if the man had been a decent enough guest, there was just something about having him around the home that had bothered Gio. No, it wasn’t just something. He knew exactly what it was, yet admitting that his annoyance of Joseph stemmed from his jealousy over the man’s friendship with Luke just felt petty – even if it was true. The very idea that he could feel so negatively about someone simply over something as stupid as jealousy just felt…odd, though he couldn’t deny the tightness in his chest that he got or the annoyance that seemed to overwhelm him whenever he walked in on the two of them chatting.

Perhaps that was the reason he had more or less locked himself inside of his study for most of the time that Joseph had been around. Doing that was far easier than actually talking to him or Luke and discussing what he was feeling. Though, to be fair, Gio wasn’t sure how he was supposed to discuss what he was feeling, considering he didn’t even have a good grasp of what he was feeling. He also supposed it wouldn’t do him much good to tell the pair of men that he couldn’t explain how he was feeling, but his online friend – one of the first people he thought maybe he was having true feelings for – could explain to the two of them how jealous Joseph managed to make him feel. No, that didn’t seem right.

As he heard the knock on the door, Gio paused. He wasn’t expecting anyone and it wasn’t like Luke to just forget his key – at least not without giving Gio a head’s up that he had in fact forgotten his key and would need to be let in. It wasn’t as if Gio roamed far from the house very often. So, he was curious as he made his way to the poor, taking a quick look through the peep hole and finding himself surprised to see Joseph on the other side of the door. With a groan, he opened it, gaze meeting Joseph’s.

“Luke isn’t here.”

His tone was harsher than he had anticipated, though Gio tried not to let it be too obvious that he felt guilty over that. It wasn’t Joseph’s fault that Luke considered him a friend – even if it was Joseph’s fault that it had been thrown in Gio’s face so many times. Still, he couldn’t he held for every small thing that had annoyed Gio during his stay – only have half of them. Then he saw the fabric in the other man’s hand.

“…is that my shirt?”

Edith didn’t fail to notice his grimace as she pulled out a cigarette and couldn’t help a slight grin forming on her features. Everyone had their preferences and his she couldn’t hold against him. In fact, as a medical professional she was glad he was aware of all the risks, even disgusted by the thought of smoking. At the same time she was a hypocrite, knowing full well how bad smoking was and its effects on one’s health and yet choosing to pick up a cigarette every once in a while. Her grin lingered for another moment before she eventually nodded at his response and slipped the pack back in her bag. “Now I have no choice but to be suspicious of you.” Edith remarked, almost playfully. She took another drag but was sure to turn her head away from the man upon puffing out a cloud of smoke. Meeting a client? In the middle of the night? Didn’t necessarily have to be anything sketchy of course, but still it was enough to raise suspicion.

***

“There’s no reason to be suspicious of me over anything.” Even the statement itself seemed sketchy though, the moment Gio uttered them. They shouldn’t have been, though. He did freelance work. It was normal for clients to need him to come by at times that didn’t fit in the regular workday schedule. People had lives. However, explaining that to her seemed sort of foolish in a way, as if he was trying to justify something that didn’t need justification. “I was meeting a client. It’s typical for people in my line of work to meet clients at odd hours.” How was this just getting worse by the second. “Technology. I work in technology and often times my clients have other jobs that make it difficult for them to meet me during the day. That is all.” Why he was explaining himself to this woman, Gio had no idea, however. He didn’t owe her any sort of explanation. “There’s absolutely nothing weird about my being out at night. Nothing.”

–

Tyler knew that way that one small thing could ruin an entire day when you’d been scraping by on the skin of your teeth. Maybe he didn’t know Gio well enough to identify if that’s what had happened here but the man obviously looked distraught.

“Shit, man.” He said, commiserating. “I can take it if you really don’t want it. Lemme guess, can’t just take the tomatoes off because you’ll know they were there? The flavor melds in. That’s me with pickles. Can’t stand the little bastards. Waste of a perfectly good cucumber, that’s what pickles are.”

He didn’t really care if Gio told him what was really the root of the bad mood. Either he would or he wouldn’t. But if he could cheer the man up at least a little bit then he’d served his purpose. Last time he’d learned it was hard to get Gio to smile and mean it, but maybe this time he could at least get like half a mouth twitch.

–

***

Gio nodded silently at the theory. He wasn’t sure where his hatred of tomatoes originated from. Just he knew, all his life they had been terrible and thus he had started avoiding them whenever possible. It made the whole avoiding them thing a little difficult when people were putting them on his sandwich, though. Not really caring one way or the other where the food went now that he had resonated with the fact that he wasn’t going to get to have it, Gio handed it over. “Here.”

He would have to grab something to eat later, considering the item he had been looking forward to was now being handed over to Tyler, but that was fine. He would find something. “I just don’t like them.” He muttered out. Perhaps it was silly to really feel dampened by the whole thing, but he greatly disliked when things weren’t how he liked, no, how he needed them. He always seemed to throw off the rest of his day. “I might have to go get another sandwich.”

“What dida sandwich ever do to anyone?” Wendy joked as she looked at the devilish sandwich in question. “Actually don’t answer that— allergies are very serious. Did they fuck up your order enough that you can’t pick off whatever they messed up?” She asked, though taking his concern over the meal slightly more seriously. “Now the town thing— I can’t argue with you on that one. I’ve lived here my whole life so I’ve seen it all. Or heard about it,” she mused as she brushed back her hair. It was so easy for her to be social and talk to people unless it was him and that was when she frozen.

 He wasn’t going to pick off the tomatoes, but Gio also couldn’t simply lie and say it was due to allergies. He wasn’t allergic to them, he just hated them. “No…they didn’t, I’m not allergic to them. I just…don’t like them.” For a moment he wondered when the ridicule would come in. It always did. People would tell him how he was overreacting about a sandwich, about how he should be grateful to have the delicious food and simply eat it because he wasn’t allergic. Eating tomatoes wasn’t going to hurt him or anything, regardless of his vocal dislike of them. They were right, it wouldn’t kill him, but he certainly wouldn’t be happy about it. That was for sure. Then it seemed they were slipping into casual conversation and Gio wanted to leave. Idle chit-chat bothered him. Yet, just getting up and walking away seemed rude as well. “Yes. I have lived here most of my life as well.”

Tyler hadn’t really seen many people in his time camped out at Cordelia’s. It wasn’t that he was avoiding everyone, as much as he’d avoided one person specifically and that one person had seemed to end up everywhere. Now though, now he had a boyfriend, and generally life was looking up. (Well, minus the part where he couldn’t go home and his neighborhood was dying. Minus that giant glaring part.)

The sight of Gio slumped on a bench made him pause. Tilting his head to one side Ty considered for a moment whether or not the other man wanted to be left alone before throwing caution to the wind and making his way over. 

“That’s a pretty bold statement there buddy.” He said as he sat down next to Gio, resting his cane between them. “Do you wanna complain about it or would you rather just brood into the middle distance?”

***

He was about to smart back that he wasn’t brooding, but Gio stopped himself. That wouldn’t solve anything and perhaps it would even elongate the conversation more than necessary – which wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all him. However, if he just humored the man, then perhaps the conversation would pass quickly and he could be free to drown in the sorrow of going about his day without his favorite sandwich.

He didn’t particularly owe Tyler any sort of explanation, Gio knew that as he looked over at the man, groaning softly. Even if he didn’t owe an explanation, it was Tyler and for some reason being anything less than at least mildly polite felt wrong. They weren’t the best of friends or anything of the sorts, but Tyler had been decent to him and in return, Gio tried to be decent back. Well, he tried to be decent up until the point when Tyler tried to encourage finger painting. When that happens, all bets are off.

“They put tomatoes on my sandwich.” Gio said, voice light as he stared at the food with a bit of distaste. “…did you want it?” He didn’t particularly want to see his sandwich go away, but at least this way it wouldn’t be a total loss and massacre of a typically good sandwich.

***

He didn’t feel like he was experiencing this, but observing it from an objective point on view. This all felt so surreal to him that he didn’t even know how to process it. He saw Gio as nothing more than a competition to Luke’s friendship. Before, he put up with him to hang out with Luke. Now, he was willingly putting himself in a situation where he had to be around Gio fairly frequently. It certainly wasn’t his ideal way to spend his time. He would have rather stayed at home, but it wasn’t worth the risk. So here he was, standing in his enemy’s kitchen, nodding politely and engaging with what he had to say. He could deal with the situation being uncomfortable, but it was just an odd thing to happen.

He reminded himself this would be a good time to take advantage of getting to know the homeowner. Joseph only wanted to get to know him for selfish reasons, not because he actually cared about him. He was still in the process of formulating a plan to get Gio away from Luke. Getting him to go on a date was still his best option, but he needed some backup plans too in case that fell through. He needed to get to know Gio to find out what made him tick and what he was passionate about and use those things to distract him. 

“Okay.” Joseph just wasn’t going to touch anything or mess with anything. It would be easier that way because then he wouldn’t risk disturbing Gio’s system. He was good at making himself small and unnoticed. He didn’t need that much space or anything, not when he still had the White Stallion to escape to. He could take up as much space as he wanted there. He followed Gio. On the way to what would be his room (another thing that he didn’t even want to think about), Joseph said, “it’s been a long time since I’ve had a sleepover.” 

***

“I’m not sure this would be categorized as a sleepover. It was my understanding that sleepovers typically occurred in the same room where everyone gathered, generally with sleeping bags rather than everyone having their own beds. This is a singular room, furnished with a bed and expected to be exclusive to you.” The concept of sleepovers had never really interested Gio. As for the experience of one, well he had never been invited to one, so he didn’t really know what it was like to have a sleepover, not that he minded. There was probably a good reason he was never invited to one. No one wanted their party ruined by someone who was so combative as he had been in his youth. Gio being forced to agree to sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag wouldn’t have faired well for anyone in that situation.

“I suppose…sleepover arraignments could be replicated here, but I don’t truly see the point when we all have our own bedrooms and sleeping in an actual bed seems to be far better than sleeping on the floor. I would think.” Though he couldn’t deny that there was a hint of curiosity there, interested in knowing the appeal of something he had missed out on for so many years.

“Did you have any questions?” It was hardly a long tour, but they had been to the most prominent areas where Gio was fairly certain Joseph would need to know how to get to. That was enough for now. Everything else, the man could run into or simply ask about its whereabouts. Luke seemed to know the house pretty well by now. If Gio didn’t answer himself, he was fairly certain Luke could handle it.

“Yeah,” Lily trailed off as she watched his gaze travel to the broken lock. She chuckled politely at his suggestion. Not because it was funny by any means, but a way to soften the ice. “One that’s pliers-proof for sure. You couldn’t guess how many bikes I’ve gone through over the years. Boston was way worse than this. Maybe I’ll just run to work instead; it’s sure cheaper. Could finally enter a marathon even.”

She rolled her eyes at no one but herself, shaking her head. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m guessing you’re in no rush then? I’m Lily.”

***

***

“It’s fine.” He could understand it, rambling when you weren’t sure what else to say. Personally, he had always been more of a fan of just keeping quiet when you weren’t sure what to say, but to each their own. He had learned long ago not to say such things out loud. He was allowed to think them – mostly because no one could actually police his thoughts regardless – but saying them out loud was rude and he didn’t want to be rude. According to his parents, he didn’t want to be rude at least. “I’ve never ridden a bike, or parked one anywhere. So I guess I wouldn’t really know the structures and commonplace of bike theft in the area.” It was…a little embarrassing, admitting that he had never ridden a bike, but honestly he had no need to. Also, it wasn’t as if his adopted parents were brimming with youth and ability to teach a disagreeable boy something as easily frustrating as riding a bike. “I’m Gio.”

“I don’t think anyone is paying much attention to me, to be completely honest.” And to prove her point, she took a look around. There were two females sitting on a nearby bench, both of their faces illuminated by the screens they were staring down at. A group of people standing in a circle and chatting in front of Blue Caterpillar. A young man on the corner of the street, wistfully looking up at the sky. “I’m on my way home,” she added calmly. “This is the fastest way to get there– perks of living on the busiest street Downtown, I suppose.” He had a point, for sure– was a voice of reason even. However, after a painfully long shift and a hellish week, she couldn’t be sure if her brain welcomed it at this hour or was annoyed by it. Goddess, she needed that cigarette. “Want one?” Asked she, returning her gaze to the man once more. “What are you doing outside so late? Testing the Nothing Good Happens After 2AM theory?”

Nothing good happens after 2am. It was an interesting theory, though one that Gio didn’t agree with in the slightest. He had done plenty of things that would qualify as good around that time. He had also done a few things that weren’t as good, but that seemed to just be life. He almost felt a bit of sympathy towards her, living in the downtown area. It was far too much going on. Too many people, too much noise, he didn’t want any of that in his life. At the offer of a cigarette, Gio’s nose crinkled slightly in disgust. He had never been a fan of smoking. Not only did it leave an unappealing odor behind, but it simply seemed disgusting. Then there were the health risks that couldn’t be ignored – even if plenty of people did so anyways. “No, thank you.” He managed to get out, trying to control the disgust at the offer in his words and tone. “I’m good. As for what I was doing, I was meeting a client.” It was late to do so, but hey, sometimes things in his realm didn’t work on an 8-5 timeline. Clients had their own schedules, and Gio had always favored the evening anyways.

Anyone who knew him knew that he was a creature of habit. There were certain things he enjoyed and if he enjoyed them, he got into a routine with them. Once he was in a routine, there was really no breaking him from that routine unless someone wanted to face some serious consequences. One of his things he enjoyed just happened to be indulging in his favorite sandwich from his favorite eatery. It probably cost more than it was worth, sure, and really at some point attempting to upscale a sandwich was ridiculous. Still, he found it delicious and he continued with his orders out.

Finally settling onto a park bench under some shade, content with the location he chose, Gio pulled out the square container that held his sandwich. This was it. Finally, he could just relax and eat his meal without the worry or care of seeing Joseph roaming around, or worse, watching Luke happily tug him along around the house and out the door to do whatever in the hell they did. His joy was quickly cut short though, as Gio looked at the meal in his box. It was the sandwich he ordered, sure, but there was something else that caught his attention.

There, sticking out ever so slightly, was a hint of red. He already knew what that belonged to, yet he had hoped against it as he opened the top of his sandwich, confirming to his horror that they had indeed put tomatoes on his sandwich. Worse of all, the ticket said on it rather clearly that the order was to be without. With a loud groan, Gio set the box to the side onto the bench and leaned forward, burying his face into his hands as he started to grumble to himself. The one joy he had been thinking about – his yummy sandwich – and now even that was ruined. Add that on top of the fact that he had hit a bit of a coding issue in his latest project and quite frankly, Gio was not having the best week.

“I hate this. I hate this sandwich, I hate this town, all of it.”

He wondered how he kept getting caught with Gio alone. The two didn’t really know how to interact with each other. It was awkward and stilted between them. He also thought it was better it was just the two of them. When Luke was around, they tried to show off. At least now it was easier to pretend to be civil. This was a safe, middle-ground anyway. All it was was Gio telling him the rules of the house. They weren’t trying to get to know each other or one-up each other. Gio was talking and Joseph was listening. It was a good dynamic for the two because it was almost normal. When he first met him, Joseph never would have guessed he’d end up in this situation. Even if they were getting along, he didn’t like feeling indebted to him. 

He nodded his head as he talked to show he was listening. Gio would have every reason to expect Joseph to ignore him, but he wasn’t. He was actually paying attention because he didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want to be here in the first place, but he had nowhere else left. He needed to be a good guest while he could. “I won’t be having friends over. You don’t need to worry about that.” He had people he was friendly with but not many close friends. And if he was going to hang out with someone, he’d do it at White Stallion. He looked around the room again and his eyes landed on the fridge. “How are you on sharing? Do you like everyone to label their food?” 

****

“If you change your mind, just remember to give me notice of it.” Gio was delighted to hear that Joseph wouldn’t be having anyone over, even if there was the alternative side to that. If Joseph didn’t have anyone over, that would mean more of his time would be free to try and take Luke’s time away from him. Without others to really distract him, Gio was going to have an impossible time keeping the two distanced from one another. Seemed there was a bit of a double-edged sword there for him to deal with – not that he was going to be able to right then. No, his best course of action was just to make sure that Luke didn’t have time for the other man without making it obvious. Yeah, he could do that…maybe.

Joseph was…far more considering than he had expected the man to be. Sure, maybe it was his own bias that had been coloring his views for a bit now, but even trying to get those aside, Gio hadn’t expected him to be so welcome to the rules of the house, nor had he expected Joseph to be so proactive on making sure he didn’t do anything to upset anyone. It was stupid, but this bothered him a bit. For quite some time, he had figured that he was the only one of Luke’s friends who was moderately decent, and for the most part that had been confirmed. Never mind that it had been confirmed by the fact that Gio didn’t really know any of Luke’s other friends – it had been confirmed.

Now, here was this new person who seemed reasonable enough and polite enough to be a bit more self-aware of his situation and the expectations of him. “You don’t have to label, exactly, unless you have something in particular that you wish to preserve. I just ask that things in the refrigerator stay organized and items are properly stored. If not, we risk an offensive odor or a mess on hand – neither of which I want to deal with. Alright, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where your room has been set up.”

Ariela hadn’t realized her voice had carried, but she was glad he’d decided to talk. She didn’t exactly mind looking like the crazy girl talking to herself. It was kind of what she was, just then. But she had been getting rather tired of just looking out on Underland like she was with nothing else to do but to stare- no guitar to play, no clouds to admire. Just the mist that was vaguely pretty if you didn’t think too hard about what went on inside it.

“Oh,” she replied softly. She turned to give the new stranger a quick once over before she returned her gaze to the lake and the city beyond. She nibbled on her lip lightly before speaking again. 

“Okay. I have a question for you. What do you think it is, exactly? Just by gut feeling.” He looked like a smart guy to her. Or maybe just someone that might have an interesting answer, at the least. She’d take either one at this point over nothing at all. Ariela might have only been a bartender with the occasional penchant for whimsy, but she did want to know as much as everyone else.

***

Her question surprised him. He hadn’t been asked that before. Sure, there had been talk about the mist, but at the moment Gio couldn’t remember anyone actually offering up theories as to what the mist really was – not that he spent a lot of time around people who would have engaged in that conversation. “I…honestly don’t know.” The mist seemed like just that, mist that would blow through and be done, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Instead, it was having negative effects on those that came in contact with it – something typical mist didn’t do.

“I hadn’t really given much thought about what it actually is.” The obvious response would be that it was some form of poison in a vapor form, but that was ridiculous. How would it still be lingering around the town and honestly, who had the ability to produce such a thing? “It’s causing trouble.”

The person who answered her call for help was a man of few words. He was soft-spoken like she was and there was a comfort in that silence, much like a weighted blanket. “I’m Lily.” She fidgeted with the straps of her knapsack, walking alongside him.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything. Just drop me off at the nearest cafe, thanks.”

She might as well get a scone if she was gonna sort out her living situation. The fog really had to make her technically homeless of all things. Maybe the fog stole my bike too. Nah, but I’ll have to tell that theory to Jack. He’ll get a kick out of that.

“It’s fine, you weren’t interrupting anything.” He needed to be nicer to her. She had just experienced something shitty and he was supposed to be helping her out. That’s what good people did. Allegedly he was a good person, right? Even if he had been questioning that himself lately, at the end of the day, he was a good person. “Of course, I can do that.” It wasn’t even as if taking her to a café would take him off his own path. There was one along the way that he could drop her off at. “So…someone took your bike? Did you have it locked up?” Small talk, the one thing he hated above all else, but what else was there to do in a situation such as this one? He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t really know this girl, just her situation, and even the situation, his knowledge on that was limited.

“You should get a better lock next time.” As if that would matter if someone really wanted to take the bike. The suggestion was terrible, but it had come from a place of good intentions. Surely that was acknowledged in all of the mess? “Not that the lack of a good lock makes stealing a bike okay.”

marinicol: for me? Is it a surprise?

marinicol: I'd love to play for you. But I'd definitely want to practice a little first cause I'd want it to be good.

marinicol: I was not good at outside gardening. I can keep a few easy house plants alive but I tried to plant in the ground I lost track of what plants needed what kind of soil or lighting and killed them all.

marinicol: Oh gosh not in years. I think if someone handed me a violin I could practice and find my way back to the muscle memory of it, but I probably wouldn't be as good as I was.

consciencebeyourguide: oh I'm terrible at gardening, but my mom had one when I was little. It was very small, but it was nice.